Party Boat to Venom
by Elarix
Summary: It is the eve before the outbreak of the Lylat War. A lone ship filled with Cornerian elite makes a pleasure cruise to Venom, of all places. But an array of party-crashers have ulterior motives for being there. Two lowly bandits, an exiled Katinese general, and a joke of a scientist all seek the ground-breaking dimensional transporter stowed aboard. (Foxhole Contest Submission)
1. Chapter 1

_A/N:_ _This is a contest entry I wrote for a challenge over on the Foxhole forum. The prompt was to write a short story starring an original cast of characters while still setting it in the Star Fox universe. This is the bizarre result._

 _(Image credit: Rob Grave's Instagram)_

* * *

 **Party Boat to Venom**

 _The Fashionably Late Arrival_

* * *

Beneath a russet sky of clouds lapped a gentle ocean, only broken by a scant few gravel banks and sharp rocks. The sea's tranquility was an illusion; it only revealed its deadly potential in contact with a sandy shore or rocky outcropping, where it foamed and hissed acidly. Reflected in the dark, sickly-green sea were flashes of lighting in the perpetual storms above, rocking the sky with awesome force. Not a sign of life was to be found on land, air, or sea.

This was the planet Venom: the harshest, most inhospitable land in all of the Lylat. A criminal sentence to Venom was a sentence worse than death itself; those sent to Venom could expect a slow and torturous demise. The only food was fossilized plant matter in the form of coal. The only water sources were acidic seas that burned the internal organs. And the air itself slowly killed those that breathed it.

It was also a niche tourist hotbed.

From the frothing curtain of clouds broke the prow of a star cruiser. The stern of the spacecraft carried three bridge prominences, each of which jutted forwards over the massive hull. It was the DTS _Pleiades_ , the largest commercial cruise ship in the System. Operated by Lylat Luxury Cruises, LTD., the _Pleiades_ offered the most sought-after pleasure cruises only Lylat's wealthiest could afford. The dream liner took passengers on a scenic pilgrimage around the entirety of the Lylat System: popular Cornerian vacation hideaways like Aquas and Zoness, the snow-covered ski resorts of Fichina, safaris through the lush jungles of Fortuna, and the mysterious, awe-inspiring ruins of Titania. This particular trip marked the _Pleiades'_ first voyage to Venom. A calculated but equally daring marketing maneuver.

After gently descending through the deadly heavens the cruise liner settled upon the acidic ocean like a swan landing on a muddy puddle—10/10 on execution, but the setting left much to be desired.

No sooner had it came to rest when a second, smaller vehicle entered the picture. A banged-up, rust-covered desert hopper emerged from the clouds behind the _Pleiades._ Its descent matched the trajectory of a meteor headed for planetary collision. A trail of smoke and orange fumes escaped the rear engines, and the craft was barely holding together regardless.

Aboard the desert hopper two figures violently argued back and forth. A grimy-looking jackrabbit clung to the stabilizer arm holding the boarding ramp open. The violent wind created by their descent buffeted him back and forth, and would have drowned out his words if he wasn't yelling into a radio unit inside his gas mask.

"Vecchio, Vecchio? What the deuce is going on back there?! What are you doing to the ship?!"

Through a narrow hall in the interior of the hopper, the jackrabbit could see the seabird at the controls. The brown-feathered skua was getting on in years—which made sense since the jackrabbit had picked him up from a retirement home. He was shaking and shuddering along with the rest of the ship, teeth chattering on an empty wooden pipe as he fought against the control wheel.

With the loudest voice he could muster from his usual high-pitched, wheezing manner he called back, "I haven't done her no harm skipper!"

"Then why is all the fire in hell spurting from the engines?!"

"It's a miracle your ship lived this long. Even with all your modifications and tacked-on warp engines you can't ready a desert hopper for interstellar flight! You can tape wings to a trout, but it won't fly if you throw it."

"Can you still land her in the hangar?!"

Vecchio's eyes opened wider than they already were. "If I never wanted to experience my old age I would've committed suicide _years_ ago."

Knowing he lost the short exchange the jackrabbit changed the subject. "Well I've got a plan! Put her down on the _Pleiades'_ bow, but bring 'er down low enough so I can hop off first. Got it?"

The elderly skua wiped at his perspiring brow, shaking his head hopelessly. With one hand fighting the wheel he drew a large hip flask from his pocket, removed his gas mask momentarily, and took a swig. After reluctantly putting the flask away, he gripped the control wheel with renewed determination. "We can do it Jasp... Here goes nothing!"

Vecchio pulled all the way back on the controls, bringing the desert hopper gliding a few scant meters above the _Pleiades'_ top. The jackrabbit watched the patterns in the steel exterior race by underneath him, gulping when he imagined the next step. After mentally cursing himself for several seconds to stall, the hare built up the necessary gumption and jumped backwards off the hopper. It had minimal impact in rectifying the speed differences between the two crafts. His feet struck the metal roof only to instantly rip out from under him. He curled into a defensive ball before his torso struck the surface next, bounced a few painful times, and rolled to a stop.

After his wits caught up to him the jackrabbit raised his head and located his aircraft. Vecchio tried desperately to land the desert hopper, but it was an impossible task. The ship bounced whenever it struck the _Pleiades'_ unwilling runway, and when it finally settled against the metallic hull it sent up a storm of sparks and found no purchase. As the old skua hurriedly popped open the canopy and spun the ship around, it slid closer and closer to the edge. The hare and the seabird's eyes met for just a second before the hopper tipped over the edge and disappeared from sight.

"N'awww... piss!"

The jackrabbit climbed to his feet, then went through a routine of stretches to pop his bones back into place. He jogged over to the side of the _Pleiades_ where the hopper went overboard, but he didn't know what he was expecting. It was a ship he had grown attached to over many excursions, eventually learning to treat it like a family member or spouse. He never wanted to admit it, but the hopper had become obsolete years ago, and it wasn't aging well. He just didn't want to see the old girl go.

Vecchio, on the other hand, was an old alcoholic fart he unintentionally saved from a retirement home. The geezer had clung to him like a rescue animal, and he didn't like clingy types. Whenever he picked a two-man job he always found a new fellow to help out. Never the same poor bastard twice. That way he could ruin even more people's lives and not have to live with them afterwards.

Arriving at the edge of the cruiser he dropped down on his hands and knees, peering over the side. The hopper had gone over a little to his right, and the hare could see a steaming white area in the ocean below where it landed. Even if he could rent a salvage crew and convince them to come to Venom, the acidic ocean would leave it with more holes than a pound of Swiss cheese (the existence of which may raise a lot of questions for the Star Fox universe but please suppress them).

The longer he stared into the watery grave the more his frown turned into a sneer. He stood back up, withdrawing and lighting a cigarette which he had to remove his mask to enjoy.

" _Jasper!"_

The hare looked around, wondering if he had just imagined someone calling his name.

" _Jaaaasper!"_

There it was again. He jammed his pinky finger into one of his large ears, attempting to clean out the wax that had accumulated there.

"Is that you old man?"

"Over here!"

Jasper walked over to his right a bit, closer to where the ship had fallen from. With the utmost care he approached a series of handles jutting from the hull that together formed a maintenance ladder. The ladder disappeared over the curved edge, but bracing himself on the uppermost rungs he was able to look down.

A dozen or so rungs beneath him clung a very frightened Vecchio. Their gazes met, and the old seabird let out a deep sigh.

"You shouldn't smoke like that, boy," Vecchio scolded. Keeping himself steady with one wing, he removed his hip flask again and drank greedily from it. "It's bad for your lungs."

"Why didn't you climb up sooner ya bastard?"

"I wanted to see if you'd come and try to save me," the skua wheezed.

Jasper crossed his arms. "Well I wasn't gonna. Just checking on the ship."

"I can see I should have known better!" The seabird shook a fist at him. "You wouldn't have the honor to save your own mother!"

"Now-now, I'm glad to see you're alive. Else you wouldn't be around to..." Jasper removed a similar hip flask from his own pocket. "...Appreciate that I stole your other can right out from under your beak!"

"Ha! I was counting on it!" Vecchio fired back. "Knowing your deplorable nature I _let_ you steal it. That way I could hold more flasks while you carried one of them the entire time."

"RRRGH!" Jasper slapped a palm over his face, then angrily took a few gulps from the bottle. This elicited a remorseful, worried look from Vecchio, who faintly reached for the disappearing alcohol. But if the seabird could get him to talk he'd have to stop drinking.

"Hey, Jasper lad, where do we go from here? The hangar's not an option anymore. How do we get inside this glorified sardine can?"

The jackrabbit stopped drinking long enough to look around the top of the _Pleiades._ He scratched at the prickly stubble growing on his chin. Then his eyes drifted back to the maintenance ladder Vecchio was clinging to.

"I have a plan!"

"Each of your plans saw another year off my already short lifespan, but what is it?"

Jasper pointed down the ladder. "There's likely a service hatch at the end of this. I brought my welding tools, so cutting in is no problem. Or we get lucky and it's unlocked."

"With _your_ luck?"

But the rabbit was already descending. He dealt a swift but clumsy kick to Vecchio's head, encouraging him to get moving. They set off down the side of the ship, in spite of the howling wind and the steaming sea hundreds of feet below that was eager to catch them.

While the guests lavished in comfort the two bandits had a valuable item to steal.

* * *

 _The Party Foul and Quick Recovery_

* * *

The command bridge of the _Pleiades_ was located inside the middle of the three protrusions from the stern. A wide glass window wrapped around the bridge's prow, giving the occupants a view of the ship's dagger-like front and the surrounding area. While navigators and other crew members bustled about in the lower pits three prominent figures remained still at command central. A zebra reclined in a ridiculous position in the captain's chair; gaudy pink sunglasses blinded anyone who attempted to stare into his eyes, his hat was on sideways, his tie and collar loosened to expose coils of gold chains, and he somehow managed to make his white admiral's uniform look like a disco suit. Standing sharply at attention on his right hand was a warthog. The captain's uniform he more was kept orderly and ship-shape, regulation in every way—probably to make up for the appearance of his superior. His face was scary to behold, from its bulbous warts and prickly hair to the tusks he polished and waxed every day. On the admiral's left stood a pig unaffiliated with the crew. He wore a business suit and was none other than President Pulcifer, CEO of Lylat Luxury Cruises.

"Utterly revolting," the warthog commented. All three sets of eyes were trained on the dreary wasteland outside the ship.

"I dunno Captain dude," the zebra said in a surfer's voice. He had an annoying habit of stretching out his U's. "It kinda makes you appreciate everything you currently have. You know, at least you're on a pleasure cruise and not an exile living down there."

" _How'd you even get to be an admiral,"_ the warthog mumbled to himself.

But his words did not escape Admiral Neighlson. "Whoa-ho dog, uncalled for. My motto is work hard early on so you can _party_ hard for the rest of your life. Now look who's sitting in the commander's seat with like... I dunno, fifty bars on his sleeves, and look who's still a captain. Booooom, you got hit hard man."

"If it'll help you understand, Captain Snowflake," President Pulcifer timidly interjected, "Lylat Luxury Cruises rotates vacation destinations each year—we can't just keep going to Aquas or Zoness. We never considered Venom before, but with the proper marketing techniques it was an easy sell." The pig clenched his tiny little hands. "There's something _exhilarating_ about being so close to an inhospitable wasteland, but still being safe in the lap of comfort!"

The warthog stared him down. "Just _Captain_ will suffice, Mr. Pulcifer."

The pig shrunk back behind the Admiral's chair.

"At the very least," Captain Snowflake continued, "The _Pleiades_ deserves a military escort. Venom is a very dangerous corner of the Lylat. Who knows what enemies might lurk here."

"Bro, you need to _chillaaax_ ," Neighlson dismissed him. "The exiles couldn't mount an attack against an ice cream truck, much less the universe's biggest party boat, amiright Porkums?"

"Still," Snowflake huffed before Pulcifer could agree, "Cornerian Intelligence has been recording disconcerting activity in this sector. And don't forget the pilot that went missing not too long—"

Suddenly the _Pleiades'_ proximity censor went haywire, interrupting him.

"Ensign, what is that?" Snowflake demanded of a subordinate.

The crew mate scanned a few radar displays before reporting back. "A small vehicle is approaching on a collision course at high speeds!"

"Is there any danger to the ship?"

The ensign studied the size of the incoming vessel. "Frankly sir, they're toast."

Movement outside the viewscreen demanded their attention. Everyone in the bridge looked over in time to see the desert hopper crash against the _Pleiades'_ hull, bounce, and skid over the edge.

Neighlson raised his sunglasses, then chuckled. "Gaw-hawd, I am jealous of those dudes."

"What?"

"Why?"

The zebra replaced his sunglasses, crossed his arms, and leaned back in his chair.

"Death by acid trip."

At that moment the lights in the bridge flashed emergency red, causing all of the crew members to stop what they were doing.

Neighlson's jaw dropped open. "Okay, which one of you installed rave lights in the bridge? Because that is totally awesome."

" _God help me,"_ Snowflake mumbled, "It's another warning sign. But this is ten-times more serious! It's on Corneria's universal emergency system, broadcast to every screen in the Lylat!"

The live-broadcast message was in fact a video feed linked to the Cornerian Military HQ. General Pepper appeared on the monitor, but not against the usual backdrop of Corneria City as viewed from the military headquarters tower. Instead he was in an elevator descending deep below the surface of the planet, most likely to the cave system of safety bunkers.

" _Fellow Cornerians and citizens of the Lylat Federation, this is indeed the System's darkest hour..."_

The video was shaky and obviously recorded from his wrist unit, but technicians soon overlayed video footage from Corneria City proper—and it wasn't pretty. As the Consulate General droned on in a steady but ominous voice, the images of destruction soon numbed the audience in the bridge to his words. It was awful. Corneria City lay in smoldering ruins. Mysterious fleets larger than any the Cornerian Defense Force could muster did battle in the capital's airspace, but most of the opposition was caught on the ground. Reports flooded in of similar attacks on Zoness, Macbeth, and Katina.

It wasn't difficult to figure out the mastermind behind the attack. After all, his ugly mug was plastered on every frigate, battleship, and fighter large enough to fit it—as if to say, "I'm back!"

Andross, the mad scientist whose exile trial was broadcast on live television years prior was now on every vid display once again. The difference this time around was that _he_ was in power.

It was completely unreal: watching the fall of the Cornerian Empire that moments before was the largest conglomerate in the known world.

It was apocalyptic.

"Oooh, that's a party foul," Neighlson moaned.

"The origin of Andross' forces is _Venom?!"_ Captain Snowflake exclaimed. "That means we're right in the middle of the enemy! They know we're here, and they'll be coming for us any minute!"

"B-b-b-but we're only a harmless cruise ship!" Pulcifer stuttered. "What would they want with u-u-us?"

The warthog rounded the admiral's seat and grabbed Pulcifer by the shirt collar, bringing him uncomfortably close. "They're after your company's _dimensional_ _transporter!_ The most advanced leap in transportation technology, squandered on a cruise ship, and flown right into Andross' hands! This is what happens when you turn research over to the private sector!"

Another ensign waved for Snowflake's attention before he could unwittingly strangle the poor pig. "Captain dude... uh, I mean Captain Snow—dangit, Captain, just Captain, the guests are panicking! They have live news feeds playing on every bar and toilet stall vid screen!"

The ensign brought up several camera feeds of different areas of the ship, all showing the party-goers completely out of their minds. DJs wouldn't DJ, bartenders wouldn't tend, and strippers wouldn't strip. The Lylat System's eminent destruction turned each and every one of them into party-poopers.

The atmosphere of despair only fueled Snowflake's determination. He grabbed an intercom mic and used it to send his voice barreling into every ear on the _Pleiades._ "This is Captain Sn... This is your captain speaking! All personnel employed by Lylat Luxury Cruises must remain at your posts! And that's an order! As for the passengers aboard this ship... STAY PERFECTLY CALM!"

The zebra flinched at the Captain's shouted words. "Whoa there Admiral Acne, not cool. Relaaax." He gently took the mic from Snowflake. "Listen up my peeps, this is your official party horse comin' at you. Sure, I know things look edgy, and the emo kid inside us all just won dibs on the playlist of your soul, but it's not his turn yet. Remember, you only live once. Clubbing is about dying young and wild! Now is the time where true party animals prove their dedication. If this is the party at the end of the world, we're gonna make it the raddest in all history, and only a guest list as large as the _Pleiades_ can make that happen. So to all you employees out there, return to your stations and crank this gig up! And to all my boys and girls on the dancefloor I wanna see you shake what ya mamma gave ya and drop it like the sky is falling. Admiral party horse, out!"

Snowflake scoffed at the Admiral's last words. "What're you trying to do, sentence us all together? They'll turn into a rioting mob down... there..."

To the amazement of the bridge's occupants Neighlson's hype speech did the trick. The crew returned to their posts and the party-goers quit trampling over each other. At first everyone stood around without knowing what to do or how to continue on, but then the strobe lights and thumping music kicked back in, and the rave continued whether they liked it or not.

The terrifying images of Corneria in ruins, however, still played across many of the vid screens in the bars.

Snowflake grunted. "Should we lock the TV stations off the news?"

Neighlson shook his lustrous mane. "Nah man, seeing the world end will infuse their revels with more abandon. It'll make magical moments happen that wouldn't happen otherwise, since they have nothing left to lose."

"Magical... moments?" Pulcifer asked.

"Beautiful moments. Somewhere, in front of a burning image of C-City, a couple is gonna try it up the butt."

* * *

 _The One-Sided Gift Exchange_

* * *

After blow-torching their way through the service hatch, Jasper and Vecchio entered the _Pleiades._ It was mostly dark inside, but their focus turned to closing the hatch and shutting the violent wind out. When they turned around to find where they were, they realized they were standing atop a skeletal steel walkway spanning the rafters high above the main floor. Both the jackrabbit and the seabird's eyes were dazzled at the amount of flashing lights blinking and slicing through the darkness below.

"Golly!" Jasper exclaimed, "feels like I just got high off those colored permanent markers you find at the craft store."

"The image of true desperation."

"Hey, a while ago you used up all our jeep's carburetor fluid trying to distill alcohol."

"Walking did your fat ass some good."

Giving up, Jasper looked left and right. "Now we have to find a way down from here. The doovalack is towards—"

"The dimensional transporter?"

"—yeah, that thing. It's towards the back of the ship, near the engine room. So we're headed in the aft direction... that way." He pointed to their right and took off down the catwalk. On their way they passed a variety of bars, dance floors, dining areas, and floor shows, but Jasper ignored the scenes taking place on the vid screens. It was something about an attack and the end of the world as they knew it, but it was unimportant to his ultimate goal: stealing the transporter.

Walking down the long series of hallways was tedious; they passed dozens of personnel and a few security guards along the way, but no one paid them a second glance. It turned out their attire didn't stand out from the rest of the crowd. There were numerous masquerades and costume parties underway. Vecchio passed as a Zonessian sailor in his threadbare denim shirt, high-waisted pants, and white captain's hat. Jasper was easily identifiable as a hooligan from the Titanian bush—from his drooping safari hat to his tan cargo shorts. These were the perfect disguises because they _weren't_ disguises; no one would suspect they were actually what they presented themselves to be.

Jasper noisily breathed in a booger. "Lousiest security I've ever seen! Where are all the guards?"

"Exactly where I'd be if I knew you were coming to swipe the transporter: living it up with the rest of the guests. We all know you're gonna mess this up before we even get halfway there."

"When I want your opinion I'll ask for it!"

To Jasper's elation, the engine room only contained a skeleton crew and a scant few guards. The powerful hum of the ion engines and vibrating turbines filling the room effectively masked the sound of their approach, and any communication they shared between one another. The engineers paid them no mind, but the guards often looked their way.

After touring a chunk of the enormous room they located the dimensional transporter. Unfortunately it was a lot larger than Jasper had anticipated. It was more of an installation on the ship than a small gadget. The station was built into the left wall of the engine room, behind a wall of cooling rods. The confining walls of the transporter enclosed a glowing red room which pulsed with energy. Set into the outside walls were a jumbled mess of dials, monitors, and switches—the majority of which were already turned to 'off'.

"I don't think we can hide that in your jacket like we normally do," Vecchio commented. "If you had actually put some _thought_ into this escapade we could have struck when they service the thing off-ship, then snatch it with the hopper when they save us the trouble of getting it detached." He leaned in closer to Jasper, still facing the device. "Though of course we don't _have_ a hopper anymore, do we?"

"Maybe we can just steal the core?"

"We don't even know if it'll _work_ with just the core!"

"Yeah, but we can still brag that we stole the _core_ to the dimensional transporter!"

Vecchio looked confused. He stole a quick drink to clear his head. "So you don't really care about being able to use it?"

"Using it is not the point! It's something I mount on the wall at my bungalow to show my grandkids when they come to visit!"

"When are you going to steal something useful for a change? Like money so I can buy more gin."

"Then we'll strike a deal old man. You help me swipe this, and I'll sell one of my older prizes my nieces and nephews are tired of seeing. Then we'll have some moolah."

"I can't believe anyone in your family looks decent enough to sire kids with, but okay," Vecchio crowed. With the guards out of sight he stepped into the compartment, locating the source of the red glow. "By golly there _is_ a core... but it's locked in. See if you can release it."

Jasper smiled mischievously as he began figuring out the controls. Some switches were helpfully labeled or positioned next to diagrams and dials that they controlled. He threw the lever for ON and waited for the show to begin.

Warning lights blinked erratically. The inner compartment grew an even brighter red and began to heat up. As a low hum began to rise in pitch, Vecchio exploded out from the cabinet, holding his hat in place.

"Aw Jasper you bastard, why'd you go and do that!"

The jackrabbit merely leaned against the control panel, clutching his sides. "You beat it out of there like your tail feathers were on fire!"

Vecchio glared at him, stomping his foot. "One of these days your good-natured trick will get me killed, and then you'll have to do all the dirty work yourself."

Jasper cocked his head. "That's... uh... the point."

"Well now look what you've done! The crew must be suspicious. They're on their way here!"

Jasper threw the switch back off and shoved Vecchio inside again. "Then you better grab the core fast old man!"

After totally shutting the construct down the hare was able to release the lock and allow Vecchio to snatch the core. The skua ducked out of the cabinet, carrying the device. It was a little larger than a PDU, with two arced handles on either side of a tablet-shaped body and a pulsing red orb set in the center. The rest of the material was a shiny chrome-plating, except for a few buttons and knobs and a rudimentary LCD screen.

"Quick, let's run!" Vecchio urged, but Jasper caught a hold of his sleeve. He gestured to the incoming crewmembers.

"No time, mate. We'll have to use it!"

Vecchio positioned the dimensional transporter so they both held one of the handles. The problem was neither of them knew exactly how to operate it.

The seabird tapped a set of three dials and counters. "These look like X-Y-Z coordinates, measuring our translation in meters—"

"No-no!" Jasper corrected, waving his paw, "Cornerians use those backward imperial units. They're measured in feet!"

"But does it calculate position based on global coordinates or local coordinates?"

"How should I know?" Jasper snapped. "Let's just point it in the direction we want to go. Let's try... 30 feet that way."

"But that's through several walls!" Vecchio warned. "What if we materialize inside one of them?"

"Aw, it's prolly got a safety feature for that." The rabbit turned the Z-dial until the green counter above it read 30. He paused to scratch his chin. "Now is Z forward or upward? Bugger all. Let's just try it anyway. Aaaaand start!" He jammed his thumb down on a conspicuous button below the position dials, but nothing happened.

Vecchio grabbed the controls. "You numskull! It's obviously _this_ button!" He confidently pressed a larger button near the top, but received a similar result.

"Naw, I just didn't push it long enough!" Jasper wrenched it back into his own possession, pressing and holding the button down longer. "Funny, this is how I turn my washing machine on..."

The elderly avian grabbed the other end of the transporter, but this time his partner didn't let go. "Hey, give it back! You don't even use your washing machine, let alone own one."

"You've gone senile old man! That or the alcohol has addled your brain."

"Leggo! Your stubborness will get us both—"

" _What're you doing?!"_

The two accomplices stopped fighting and looked up to find a horrified guard. He stared incredulously back and forth between them and the transporter.

"Just because it's the end of the world doesn't mean you can take whatever you want. You could hurt yourself with that. Give it back, now!"

The Cornerian guard rushed forward, snatching the transporter away by the tablet piece instead of the handles. In clumsily mishandling the device he pressed a button. The same industrial whine began to hum again, and the red orb glowed brighter. One second the dog was there, and in the next—vanished.

"Blimey, where'd he go?"

They looked all about the engine room until Vecchio spotted him and pointed.

"What did I tell you? He's in the wall! Oh I can't look! These poor eyes have seen enough. Think of him, guts sawn in half!"

Jasper's eyes alighted on the Cornerian's tail and hind legs. His rear end protruded from the wall bordering a parallel passageway. He walked over to the dog, scratching his chin stubble as he examined him from multiple angles. Then he dealt a kick to his rump. In response, the guard flailed his hind legs and whipped his tail back and forth.

"Vecchio you old coward; he's fine!"

The avian worked up the courage to have a look, then visibly exhaled. "Oh, good. For a moment there I thought... Hey, then where's the dimensional transporter?"

At that moment several more guards and engineers converged on their position, quickly putting together what happened.

"There they are! Get 'em!"

"Run for it Vecchio!"

The bandits high-tailed it from the engine room, taking a right turn down the exterior passageway. They came upon the front half of the Cornerian they teleported into the wall. The guard hung in a humiliated fashion from a hole in the partition, trying to reach the transporter which lay on the floor beneath him. His arms and fingers stretched desperately for it, but it lay just out of reach, taunting him.

Jasper patted the dog on the head and scooped the device out from under him. "Thanks mate! You're a big help."

"Hey, no! You can't take that! That is property of Lylat Luxury Cruises, and if you don't return that the _Pleiades_ can't teleport! Even worse I'll lose my job—as if today already wasn't bad enough."

But the hare and avian were already off. Jasper turned around long enough to quip, "It's no wonder you're not with the rest of the party. You really are a wallflower."

"Oh if my blaster wasn't in my hip holster!" the Cornerian roared.

* * *

 _The Inevitable Sting_

* * *

In the command bridge of the _Pleiades_ the proximity censor went off a second time. Captain Snowflake was the first to investigate.

"Another kamikaze attack, ensign?"

The squirrel officer shook his head. "Negative Captain. Radar indicates a much larger, cruiser-sized ship. Heavily armored and loaded with weapons. It's on an intercepting course!"

Snowflake slammed his fist down on Neighlson's armrest. "Blast! If this were a military vessel I'd have those exile scum turning tail and running back into the mud."

Pulcifer was quick to implore the captain against such action. "Please Captain! Remember the thousands of paying guests aboard, remember science's first dimensional transporter, remember the expensive cargo—and the ship itself! The _Pleiades_ is Lylat Luxury Cruises most iconic—"

The warthog snapped his fingers. "That's it! We'll teleport out of danger. It is not in my blood to retreat, but with the lives of thousands of Cornerian citizens at stake I will make an exception." He brushed LLC's president aside and gave orders to the second mate. "Plot a course with the dimensional transporter. Send us 100,000 miles out—any direction!"

"Yes sir!" The second mate turned to his control screen and tapped away. Yet the more he input commands the more he grew frustrated. Finally he ran a background check, the results of which made his blood run cold. "Captain, there seems to b-be a problem..."

"Don't trail off like that!" Snowflake snapped. "Now, a problem with what?"

"With the dimensional transporter, sir."

"Well, what is it?!"

"It's uh... gone?"

"GONE?!" the warthog roared. "It can't be _gone._ If it's a routine maintenance check tell them to cancel it and reinstall the device!"

Another officer stood up, placing a hand over his earphone piece. "Captain, the engine room is reporting the dimensional transporter is stolen. Two civilians dressed in a sailor's costume and a hobo costume teleported a guard through a wall and ran off with it. They're still aboard the ship, and several officers are in pursuit."

Snowflake emitted a guttural growl from his fat throat. He proceeded to belt out a series of orders. "Order every guard in a two-sector radius to search for people matching their descriptions. And close off all access to the hangar—they may have an escape vehicle." He turned to the gunnery officer. "Prep the defensive weapons. We'll have to blast our way through that exile cruiser!"

"Ohhh!" Pulcifer swooned against the Admiral's chair, patting his sweat-covered face with a handkerchief.

Neighlson shook him. "Easy there porkums. It's too early to black out." Sitting up in his chair he addressed Snowflake. "Hey Mr. 56-yo with acne, hit me up with whatever you're smoking. What kind of guns do you think we've got? The most lethal weapons we have are party poppers, and confetti won't do much against standard cruiser armor."

"We can't just let them shoot us down without a fight! We can use the ship's defense cannons—even if they are measly in comparison."

By now they had visuals on the enemy cruiser. The angular, green-colored warship hovered above the acid sea a thousand feet away from them.

"They're hailing us sir!"

"Good," Neighlson answered, though the crew had started to direct all reports to Snowflake. "Fire up MuzzleTime."

Once the crew established a video connection a feed popped up onscreen of the enemy cruiser's bridge. Occupying the captain's seat was a caracal—a larger feline species with chestnut fur and long, black-tufted ears. While she wore a sharp green uniform she chose to cover it with a ragged, hole-filled cloak draped around her shoulders. Her fur was unkempt and mangy in some areas. In other places it displayed ink tattoos of skulls and Katinese characters. Her nose was pierced with a silver ring that distractingly caught and reflected the light, drawing one's attention to her face—whereupon they would find a particularly dark gaze glowering back at them.

Admiral Neighlson leaned forward in his chair, toasting her with a champagne glass. "Hey-hey there Ms. Sour-puss! Glad you could make it to the bash. You brought your own refreshments and snacks, right? Maybe some... sushi or noodle dishes?" He flashed an awkward but full-toothed smile, eyes hiding behind his sunglasses.

The caracal stared him down for several tense seconds, pursing her lips and holding her damaging glare. Finally she broke away to glance around her video screen. She spoke in Katinese, and a rather distressed-looking canine shackled to her chair translated.

"I will speak with the one in command."

Smile still plastered on his face, Neighlson smoothly stood up and walked away. Standing in the elevator, he turned to face the crew.

"You can find me on dance floor 11, possibly behind the DJ deck. Peace out!" The elevator doors closed behind him, leaving Snowflake to deal with the Venomian.

"I am the captain of the _Pleiades._ This is a luxury passenger ship full of civilians with no military involvement. You have no right to—"

The feline barked out a few choice harsh words, then waited for her translator.

"And I am General Liufang, 21st regiment of the Venomian Army. I do not barter with Cornerian scum."

Liufang smiled coolly, resting her chin on a fist.

"Your ship is carrying a revolutionary propulsion device that the Emperor seeks. We are prepared to take this item by force if you do not freely hand it over. I would hate to risk the lives of your passengers needlessly, dear Captain."

Pulcifer summoned the gumption to speak. "B-but we don't have the dimensional transporter! Someone just—"

"Silence!" Snowflake ordered. Turning back to Liufang he continued, "Neither do Cornerians barter with exiles, you Katinese rebel! If the traitorous Andross wants the transporter so dearly he can come aboard and take it himself... over my dead body!" The warthog proceeded to draw his commando blaster and brandish it. "Ha-ha! And I'll be ready for him! Bang-bang!"

Without realizing it he fired two successive bolts into the display screen, ending the video feed. Holstering his blaster the Captain sulked over to the rear of the bridge, where he folded his arms and faced the wall, contemplatively. His back was to the crew.

"I may have been a bit impulsive."

Luckily the audio still worked. The translator's voice came through with a final warning: "Have the dimensional transporter ready in ten minutes, or your ship will cook in the sea.

"Prepare to be boarded."


	2. Chapter 2

_The Punch-Spiking_

* * *

Jasper and Vecchio raced down a corridor, brushing past a series of waiters and costume-clad guests. During Jasper's travels it had become second-nature for him to glance over his shoulder—even if he was doing nothing wrong. Each time he checked their sixth he gauged the progress of their pursuers, and whether they were gaining on them. So far so good, but they hadn't been able to shake them yet.

"Jasper, ahead of us!"

The rabbit swung his head back to look forward, and his heart skipped a beat. A second contingent of security personnel was rounding the corner and heading straight for them. They would be sandwiched in a door-less hallway.

While Vecchio spun right and left looking for an exit, Jasper already knew there were none. He swung the dimensional transporter into Vecchio's gut, knocking the wind out of him.

"No you old fool, grab this! We're taking a shortcut."

"Just be careful!" Vecchio coughed as he grabbed ahold of the other handle.

Just as the officers from both sides of the hall were diving headlong for them, Jasper hit the activation button and whisked them away. The sensation of teleporting disoriented them; it felt like rubbing ones eyes and seeing hexagons of bright colors melting away, only to leave behind another location. Jasper and Vecchio were expecting to feel the guards tackle them, so they both flinched violently. They fell over in confusion, losing their grip on the transporter.

"Blimey, what the..."

"Where are we?!"

The hallway was gone, now replaced by a crowded cabin room. It was decked out with party streamers and balloons, with a series of UV-illuminated aquariums lining one of the walls. A long table ran the length of an adjacent wall, overflowing with chips, dip, and untouched plates of vegetables. The largest punch-bowl either of the bandits had ever seen sat in the corner, large enough to be a Jacuzzi. The guests filling the room were all arrayed in costumes taken from popular movies, TV shows, or video games. Jasper wouldn't touch a game with a ten-foot pole; whenever he saw a spoiled brat glued to a hand-held in public he made sure to slap it out of their hands—as long as the parents had their backs turned. None of the cosplayers seemed to notice their magical entrance; they were too busy talking to one another, admiring ingenious outfits, or laughing at low-budget attempts.

The two outlaws struggled to their feet—Vecchio's bones audibly cracking.

"Oi, that was a good one, wasn't it!" Jasper commended himself.

"Where'd you put the device?"

"Eh?"

Vecchio pointed around Jasper's torso. "Did you manage to stash the transporter somewhere? You just held it out and clubbed people before."

"No I don't have it! Wait, you mean you dropped it?"

"Listen kid, both of us dropped it—"

"Well don't just stand there gramps, _look for it!_ "

They crouched onto their hands and feet, scouring the floor for the rogue device. At first all they found were a variety of boots, shoes, and sandals inspired by fictional universes and period fashion. But a telltale flash of chrome caught Jasper's eye, and he looked up just in time to witness the fate of the device. A canine dressed as a witch had just slipped it into her bag; she was looking right at him before she turned and squeezed through the crowd.

"Vecchio: after that woman!" Jasper dove forward, shouldering his way through a group of super-heroes all coincidentally wearing the same costume. The canine gave him a hard chase through the crowd, but ultimately her bright green outfit flashed whenever Jasper thought he had lost her.

Working together Jasper and Vecchio cornered the canine at the enormous punchbowl. She was a black and lime-green furred border collie that made Jasper think of the girls back on Titania— the ones who dyed their fur for attention. She was outfitted like the rest of the crowd, but more casually. She wore a crooked black witch hat and a baggy green onesie too big for her frame; the excess sleeves hung limply off her hands while the legs bunched at her footies. She was the slumber-party version of some video game character that Jasper couldn't care less about.

The pair of bandits closed in on her, arms spread like basketball players.

"Ey there girl, you lifted something that belongs to us. Care to hand it back?"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" she retorted, crossing her arms—the sleeves of which swung in a delayed fashion.

"You know perfectly well what I mean! You swiped that thingy-madoo-hickey after we dropped it. It's in your bag!"

"Fine, have a look!" The cosplayer opened her bag wide enough for Jasper to see inside, and he stepped closer to peer in. He fished around for the comparatively bulky device, but only found a few paper credits, some change, and a few gift cards—all of which he pocketed without qualms.

"What?! It ain't there! Alright what have you done with it?"

The witch pointed a floppy sleeve back through the crowd. "I dropped it a while ago! Someone else has picked it up by now. Hurry, or they'll run away with it!"

"For the love of..." Jasper had nearly taken off when Vecchio grabbed his shirt-collar. When he turned around the old man pointed at the base of the collie's suit. Right under her protruding tail the drop-seat of the onesie was bulging out, giving the dimensional transporter away.

"She must've stashed it in the backdoor while she was running," Vecchio said in Jasper's ear.

"Ahh, good onya mate." The jackrabbit nodded coyly. "So that's it! Trying to pull one over on ol' Jasper are we? Ya little ankle bitter!"

Before she could flee Jasper shoved the large witch hat down over her face, blinding and muffling her. Vecchio grabbed her loose sleeves and tied them in a knot so she couldn't fight back. With the collie successfully secured, Jasper shamelessly unbuttoned the drop-seat and began fishing around in her onesie for the device. She thrashed about violently and tried to cry for help, but her pleas were muffled by the hat.

"I had a doe who was always hiding things in her blouse," Jasper explained, contorting his face and reaching in deeper while the transporter slipped further from his grasp. "Car keys, lotto tickets, spare change, my _wallet..._ " The collie began swatting his face with her tail. "Oof! It never worked. She always over-estimated my respect."

Refusing to give up, the collie slipped her arms from her sleeves and reached down through the interior of her onesie. She snatched the transporter away just as Jasper got it in his grasp.

"This Jill has an extra set of arms!" Jasper exclaimed. "Oi, give it back!"

"Watch where you're grabbing, you sicko!"

"Vecchio, keep her muzzled!"

The old skua tried to tighten the hat around the girl's head, but to his surprise she was no longer in it; the hat slid off and revealed an empty neckhole.

"That's it, I'm coming in there after you!"

Jasper crawled all the way through the drop-seat into the over-sized onesie, now jointly occupying it with the canine. Its original owner had removed each of her appendages from their sleeves or pant legs so that she could better twist around and fight back. With nothing but Vecchio's hold to support the suit it grew too heavy for him to carry; it fell to the floor with a thud, now one chaotic mess. The seabird stepped back, trying to discern her head or a hand or the transporter beneath the suit, but one bulge was indistinguishable from the next.

"OW! The little witch bit me!" Jasper hollered.

Finally the dimensional transporter emerged from the neck hole, victoriously held aloft by Jasper's hand. The rest of his arm and his head followed, and the dazed jackrabbit paused to catch his breath and gather his wits about him. Then he crawled the rest of the way out until he was free from the suit.

He brushed his clothes off. "Felt like I was trapped in a parallel dimension! A fate truly worse than death."

"That would have been embarrassing if the transporter wasn't in there," Vecchio remarked.

While they were checking over the device to make sure it was unharmed, the collie was trying to fit herself back into the pajamas. The problem was she became disoriented inside the suit and had no notion of up or down. She ended up poking her head through the seat flap and her tail through the neck hole. Her forepaws found their way into the footies while her feet emerged from the sleeves. Before Jasper and Vecchio could walk she lashed out and wrapped her arms around the jackrabbit's calves.

"I'm Loretta!" she blurted out.

Jasper had to windmill-his arms to keep from falling over. He looked down, annoyed. "Hallo Loretta! I'm Impatient! I've got places to be, gadgets to steal, and law-enforcement to evade. Care to be a good Shiela and let go?"

"Please, you don't know how much that dimensional transporter means to me!"

"Correct—and I don't want to! ...Wait, how did you know what it was?"

Before she could answer Vecchio grabbed Jasper's arm and pointed to the cabin door. "Cornerians! We gotta teleport out of here!"

"No-no: we'll hide! Every cabin within 100 feet of her is probably crawling with them. Better to let them pass over us and move on to another area."

Loretta used Jasper to bring herself to her feet. "I've got a plan!"

Jasper leaned in close to intimidate her, gesturing to himself with his thumb. " _I'm_ the one with all the plans! Your plans are prolly shite!"

She pointed at the massive punch bowl behind them. "You can hide in there when they get close."

"But the transporter will short-circuit and electrocute us!" Veccio warned.

Loretta rocked on the balls of her feet. "Well... I guess you'll just have to trust me with it."

Jasper stomped his foot. "Aw you little schemer, I'll get you for this!"

The hare reluctantly gave her the transporter, which she sealed inside her bag.

"Don't worry. I'll wait right here until they're gone. I'll signal when it's safe to come back up."

"So having the transporter isn't enough; you have to drown us too!"

"Quick, here they come!"

Without further prodding the two outlaws climbed up on the table and swung their legs over the side of the punch-bowl. They submerged themselves in the bright red fruit punch until they were up to their noses; only their eyes, hats, and ears poked above the surface. Through the warped side of the bowl they watched the guards draw closer until they were upon their position. Then they took deep breaths and ducked below.

Loretta casually stood a few feet from the punch-bowl, pretending to be watching the other cosplayers. The security personnel approached, checking under the white cloths covering the tables and scanning the crowd as they searched. When the two guards saw her they froze in place, staring. Loretta did her best to play it off. She took out her personal PDU and began browsing her social media accounts with it, pretending to be engrossed. The truth was she couldn't operate the touchscreen with her hands covered by the footies. The security officers continued to stare at her, suspicion clearly showing on their faces. Loretta began to sweat nervously, unable to stop herself from stealing glances at them.

Finally the older guard shook his head slowly. "So that's how they're wearing 'em these days. Upside down and all."

"First it was backward hats," the other guard agreed, "then it was jackets tied like skirts, then they were piercing their ears with giant metal hoops, then they dyed their fur neon colors. Next they'll be wearing their underwear on their heads and calling it 'style' or 'swag'."

"Every day we stray further from god."

"Hey, what's wrong if I wear my clothes upside down?" Loretta piped up in her own defense. "It works, doesn't it?"

"Sure, but your bum's hanging out the back."

Loretta's face morphed into a horrified grimace, and she backed up against the snack table to hide her chibi witch-covered underwear. The two guards shared a laugh but otherwise passed her by to continue looking for the real miscreants. When they were far enough out of sight Loretta knocked a fist against the punch bowl, giving the all-clear.

Jasper stood up as quickly as possible, splashing the red beverage in every direction. "Eugh, thought you'd never tell us to come out! Of all the ways I thought I'd die I never imagined a green witch in long-johns would drown me in a bowl of fruit punch. Eh, Vecchio? ...Vecchio?"

The old bird was still hunkering at the bottom of the punch bowl, a steady stream of bubbles rising to the surface.

"He's gonna drown!" Jasper reached into the juice mixture and pulled Vecchio out by his wings. The old man coughed and spluttered, but did his best to hold it in.

"What are you doing man?! Spit it out!"

Vecchio swallowed, causing his Adam's apple to bob in his thin throat. "What do you mean 'spit it out'? You want me to let this go to waste? It's at least 30% proof!"

Jasper smacked a hand over his face. "Strike my earlier comment. This is _exactly_ how you'd die."

"Ahem!" Loretta extended the dimensional transporter to Jasper, who looked relieved to see her still standing there.

"Thanks Jill!" Jasper graciously accepted the device. "Now scram!" He held it far away from his body to keep from getting it wet. After their dip in the punch both criminals were saturated with the sticky solution. Jasper had the bright idea to wash himself off in the nearby fishtanks.

"Oh please don't make me leave!" Loretta begged. "I bought a ticket on this boat just so I could get close to the dimensional transporter!"

Jasper climbed over the side of a waist-high aquarium, then lowered himself into the water. "Sure you did. And all the tasty food and the concerts and the alcohol and the costumes were just a package deal, eh?"

Loretta rushed over to the side of the fish tank, grabbing onto the rim. "No, you don't understand; I'm a scientist!"

Jasper looked her up and down, noting the state of her onesie. "I expect wearing your clothes upside down cures cancer?"

"No, I'm a theoretical physicist. Honest! I studied physics in college, I got my graduate's degree, but the only jobs I can get are just internships! You know, the ones where you do work for _free?_ That's not even the problem really, the internships are so boring and uninteresting! I want to get my hands on the real stuff, like that dimensional transporter."

Jasper coaxed a goldfish out of his cargo shorts. "What, even if you have to steal it? That could land you in a lot of trouble."

"I don't care!" The witch stomped her foot for emphasis. "Information should be free—not sold for a profit and kept locked up by wealthy elites dominating the private sector. They're all just greedy capitalists! I hate the other people on this excessive dream boat! Anarchy forever!"

Vecchio was taken aback. He paused in the middle of squeezing the punch out of his hat (and into his beak) to say, "Well that escalated quickly."

Jasper stood up to his belt buckle in the fish tank. He scratched his chin, studying Loretta through a new lens. "You know, I think I had you all wrong. We're both bandits in a way."

"Am not! It's a political ideology and isn't really _stealing_ , per se... It's equal distribution of wealth!"

"Well that just sounds like stealing with extra steps." Jasper hoisted himself out of the aquarium, now dripping water instead of fruit punch. When Vecchio climbed out behind them they left the fish tank a deep red color, and the fish began swimming in loop-de-loops. "Tell you what though. I ain't about to share the dimensional doohickey with anyone else. But if you help us smuggle it off the _Pleiades_ I'll give you access to it. I'll mount it on my wall, and you can come visit to study it and take it apart and whatever. Now what do you say to that proposition?" He extended a paw dripping with tropical punch and tank water.

Loretta shook his paw with her own footie-clad one, cranking it up and down excitedly. "Deal!"

* * *

 _The Gate-Crashers_

* * *

General Liufang stepped off her shuttle's boarding ramp and onto the hangar deck of the _Pleiades._ Her personal guard and chain-bound interpreter followed close behind. A force of Katinese expats had already setup an armed perimeter around the landing shuttles, holding the line against the Cornerian guards. The _Pleiades'_ defense force was passable at best, and couldn't stand up to the full-sized landing company. While the Cornerians hid behind cover and defended doors to the rest of the ship, the large number of Katinese stood out in the open, rifles armed and readied.

The caracal stepped forward, dragging the Cornerian interpreter by his leash. She flung him forward, and he fell over without the balancing aid of his hands.

"Put down your weapons or be slaughtered!" Liufang shouted.

The traumatized canine curled into a fetal position but still relayed the order. The defense force shared uneasy, doubtful glances, and ultimately gave in. They had lost the battle even before it had begun; they were unprepared. The commanding lieutenant acknowledged this uncomfortable truth and was the first to lay down his blaster. The rest of the defense force in the hangar followed his lead and dropped their weapons as well, though with less resolve. The Katinese expats confiscated their weapons—sometimes using them to replace their own inferior-grade arms—and forced the Cornerians to huddle on the ground.

With their foothold established in the hangar Liufang lead the infiltration through the halls of the ship. On their way to the bridge they encountered a mixture of guards and guests alike. They either shot or disarmed the officers and beat the passengers with their rifles. At worst they were enemies to her cause; at the most inoffensive, privileged scum.

Liufang reached the elevator to the bridge, only to find it locked. That wasn't a problem. This wasn't a military ship she had boarded.

It had hostages.

Liufang gave the order to round up all the guests in the corridor. The the company of felines placed their rifles against their heads, making sure they were in plain view of the security cameras lining the hallway. The Cornerians cried out; children hid behind their mothers and fathers while friends clung to one another, terrified that this could be the end.

Rather than stare at any camera in particular, Liufang faced the locked elevator and closed her eyes. It wasn't even necessary to speak. It wasn't necessary to grab their attention. The officers in the bridge were watching them and understood the situation well. The general only had to wait a few seconds before the light above the doors flashed back on with a pleasant chime.

What a shame. She almost wanted an excuse to gun some of the dogs down. But the caracal looked forward and strode in. The doors closed around herself, her personal guard, the sniveling translator, and two Venomian officers who forced their way in. The rest waited in the hallway, guns still trained on their hostages. Liufang always expected a trick when dealing with Cornerians and even fellow Venomians—though not from her Katinese division.

When the elevator reached the top of the bridge it emitted the same chime and the doors opened. Liufang's soldiers marched through, rifles at the ready. They pulled up, however, when they ran into a lone captain standing resolutely in their way. The Katinese and Venomians nervously stared him down, focusing their barrels on his large frame, but after some prodding from Liufang they spread throughout the room, leaving just her guard and interpreter. The warthog had already instructed the bridge crew to surrender, rather than risk any unnecessary casualties.

"I see you are a realist, Captain," Liufang commended him. "You know when the hunter has caught you eating dessert" (this is a Katinese expression and loses much in translation, but her Cornerian mediator stumbled through it anyway). Leaning in closer, she growled, "Get on the comm and order the rest of your men to surrender. If you do not we will be forced to kill everyone on board—indiscriminately."

The captain cleared his throat. "I'm afraid I can't do that. Only the Admiral is qualified to give that order."

Liufang drew her saber and gestured around the control bridge. "Then were is he? Show me!"

Her soldiers threatened a tech ensign, and he pulled up a video feed on the monitor, showing the main floor of the _Pleiades._

Liufang's jaw slid open, and her arms lowered. She pointed her saber at the screen. "What is... _that?_ "

Snowflake forced himself to look at the vidscreen for the same reasons he would watch a public execution, the punishment of one of his men, or an operation on a wounded soldier. Real officers didn't look away. They accepted their responsibility and duty.

Admiral Neighlson was prancing around a stripper pole erected in the center of the dance floor. He was only dressed in a pair of sparkling black trunks and his white military jacket—and of course those garish pink sunglasses. Retro disco music pulsated over the speakers, remixed with modern electronic bass-treatment. Neighlson rhythmically thrust his pelvis in time with the music while the passengers surrounding his platform either danced along or cheered him on.

"That," Liufang pointed a claw at the screen, "that is the reason Andross has declared war."

"Admiral Neighlson is a disgrace to the Cornerian uniform," Snowflake admitted, "but he still has the singular authority to surrender. You must contact him to negotiate one, and I wager my sword the coward would unconditionally comply."

Liufang waved a paw, then turned her attention back to Snowflake. "Surrender can wait. The transporter is more valuable than the fate of this pleasure ship, the pinnacle of Cornerian excess. Which reminds me..." Liufang swung her sword, halting the tip a mere inch from the warthog's throat. "You were to have the device ready upon my arrival, do you not remember?"

For once Snowflake looked nervous. To hide his fear and the fact that he was already boot-licking he resorted to a blustery speech. "Well, yes, but we ran into some unforeseen circumstances. It appears that one or two of the passengers aboard the _Pleiades_ stowed away to get their hands on that same object. Very recently—er, about the same time you arrived—they snuck into the engine room and, uh, appropriated the dimensional transporter for their own purposes... whatever those may be. Now, rest assured I have much of the crew currently—"

Liufang shook her head and interrupted both the captain and her interpreter mid-sentence. "What?! Are you telling me the device was _stolen?_ By who?!"

Snowflake paused, having to abandon his previous train of thought and recalculate. "We don't know exactly. A pair of ruffian stowaways: a hare and an avian."

"Let me see them!"

The Cornerian managing the hunt for the criminals obliged, pulling several security cam feeds of the two on-screen.

"Have their photos sent to my men," Liufang ordered. "You are all to search for them! Subdue and recruit any of the ship's crew that run across along the way. You six; guard the bridge. From now on you Cornerians are prisoners of war of the Venomian Empire. You will remain here Captain, while I secure a surrender from... that _thing_." She finished by indicating the screen again.

Leaving six Venomian soldiers behind, she turned with her interpreter and guard to descend the elevator.

"I don't like this," one of her feline guards said, voicing his concern. "This was a simple extraction mission, but it's getting out of hand. We're facing too many setbacks."

"You need more confidence, Yiwen," the General admonished him. "Our people are used to hardships and misfortune. I remind you how we loyal Katinese were exiled from the home that we love, and how we had to live on a wasteland of a planet for five years. But persevering in the face of misfortune and setbacks is how we survived—how Andross' empire grew and flourished. The path to victory is lined with misfortune, and the only way to continue forward is to take each challenge in stride."

"But we should be liberating Katina! Not running some errand for a monkey at the outbreak of the War. I hate these Venomians watching our every move."

"Silence! Know your place, sergeant." Liufang ordered. Yiwen was referring to the Venomian task force sent with them. They passed themselves off as backup and Andross' liaison, but Liufang and her officers knew the real reason.

"Rest-assured," Liufang followed up, "once we have secured the dimensional transporter for Andross he will look upon the Katinese expatriates with even more favor than before. This device will put his research years ahead, and ensure our ultimate victory over the tyrannous dogs and the liberation of our people."

* * *

 _The Aggroed_

* * *

During their initial chase Jasper and Vecchio had strayed further from the stern—which proved to be the opposite of where they should have been going. Their new plan was to stop by the rear hangar, hot-wire the fastest, sportiest ship available, and escape the _Pleiades_ before the crew could pursue them. But right now they had to wade through a neck-deep sea of people in the center dance floor.

Though they had escaped all knowledge of the fact, the two bandits were now confronted with the truth. News feeds still played out over the vid screens, sobering many of the partygoers but fueling others with reckless abandon. After spotting the footage, Jasper and Vecchio slowed to a halt, awestruck and confused.

Loretta bumped into them from behind. "Why did you stop?" She had to shout over the thumping dance music.

"Dear god... looks like the world is ending!" Vecchio exclaimed.

Jasper looked around the crowd of dancers surrounding them. "And all of these people are partyin' in spite of it?"

"Yeah, got a problem with that?" Loretta asked.

"Oh no, not a problem really. But if Armageddon is a no-show then tomorrow will be one hell of a hangover!"

Loretta huffed. "Personally, I'm quite hopeful. The Cornerian government is an oppressive regime that stole its power by colonizing other peoples and planets. Maybe Andross will bring change to the System. If anyone can end the rat race, it's him."

"Bitch you're a Cornerian!" Jasper shouted in surprise. "He'll get you _first!_ "

The collie crossed her saggy-sleeved arms. "Hmph! I didn't _ask_ to be born a Cornerian! If I embrace his philosophy and fight back against the system I'm sure he'll accept me and the rest of my comrades. Besides, aren't you yourself against the Cornerians? After all, it sounds like stealing is your hobby."

"It ain't just a hobby!" Jasper clutched the transporter tightly to his chest. "It's a way of livin'—my raison d'etre. And no I wouldn't side with that monkey! I'd just end up stealing from him an' his buffoons instead of the Cornerians all the time. Doesn't make much difference who you are or where you're from; I'll steal from you all! I never bother with politics, and I never take sides, you see."

"It only _seems_ like he never takes sides, young lady," Vecchio warned. "He changes sides so fast it just looks like one big blur."

Jasper was about to retort when he spotted a group of security personnel heading their way. "We've been spotted! But I have a plan. Let's split up! We'll have more of a chance at escaping if I go alone and you two go together."

Vecchio sighed. "Something tells me you just want an escape from _us._ "

"I admit I am getting fed up with your constant arguments every step of the way," Loretta said. "So long as the old man and I get to take the transporter, I'm for it."

"Eugh—" Jasper raised a finger to protest but knew it would be futile. He knew Vecchio wouldn't abandon him even though he himself would leave the old seabird in a heartbeat. "Fine! You can take it. But don't hot-wire the ship before I get there!"

Loretta and Vecchio exchanged brief glances.

"Actually I have no idea how to—"

"Yeah, I admit I don't know how to hot-wire a car, much less a ship."

"Ace!" Jasper grinned and clasped his hands. "I'll grab the hounds' attention and lead them away. While they're distracted you two can duck for cover somewheres and teleport away. Let's say... the roof!"

Vecchio's eyes widened. "Oh no! Don't make me go back out there! Venom's the last place in the Lylat I want to see! I rather go back to the assisted living—"

"Come off it Vecch! Every planet in the Lylat System might as well be Venom now that that maniac is on the loose. Once you get there keep on headin' aft until you come to the hangar. Then teleport down into it, and hide in some boxes or something till I get there."

"And what if you don't make it back?" Loretta asked, concern twinging her face.

Jasper smiled knowingly. "Well now, worrying a bit much about the handsome rabbit are we?"

Loretta smacked him across the face, causing Jasper to hiss around his two front teeth. "Of course I'm worried! You're the only one who knows how to steal a ship!"

The hare rubbed at the hand print sizzling on his cheek. "Well you better pray I make it!" He shoved the transporter into Loretta's stomach, knocking the wind out of her. While the seabird and collie ducked below the rest of the crowd, Jasper put his powerful legs to work and bounced above their heads, begging to be spotted again. It appeared to work; the security officers pointed in his direction and took off after him.

From there Jasper focused on running, though he let his ears stand tall above the crowd to guide the Cornerians. He shoved guests out of the way, causing champagne and plates of food to fly everywhere. If the guards had a radar that tracked pure chaos he would be dead smack in the middle.

Jasper burst through the mob of passengers and into a hallway at the other end of the dance floor. He looked over his shoulder to make sure the Cornerians hadn't lost track of him, then turned forward to check what lay ahead of him—much too late. A few yards down the hallway was a contingent of Katinese soldiers. For reasons he couldn't yet explain they seemed to recognize him; he had never been to Venom before and was sure he hadn't stolen from a group of Katinese soldiers. Actually there was that one time—

But the hare had no time to think. The soldiers raised their rifles, which was Jasper's signal to duck. His feet slipped out from under him and he landed on his rump, thankfully cushioned by his cotton ball-shaped tail. The reports from the rifles thundered in the narrow hallway, and bolts of energy seared past just over his head. Scrambling around on the floor to face the other direction, Jasper watched the charged shots strike the Cornerians pursuing him and burn into their flesh. One after the other the security officers dropped to the floor, not even comprehending what had killed them.

Jasper grimaced when he saw the steaming heap of corpses, his sudden fear mirrored by the nearby passengers who cried out and swarmed away. He tried to jump to his feet and follow them but a pair of powerful arms clamped around his and held him back. The arms dragged him kicking back into the hallway.

After being helped to his feet Jasper brushed himself off. "Well thank you now. Thought those Cornerians would never— _PEUGH!"_

One of the Katinese soldiers dealt a powerful blow to Jasper's stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He gasped in pain, eyes freakishly bugging out.

"Alright... I... take that back!"

The Katinese soldiers punched and booted him into submission, and a few more times for good measure. Then they slapped a pair of energy cuffs over his wrists. They conferred with voices over a comm link, then dragged Jasper back out onto the main floor.

After the intense beating Jasper let his legs go limp and let the soldiers carry him along. Through bloated eyes he watched the frightened faces of Cornerians. The sea of passengers parted left and right in front of him. From the way they stared back, he wasn't a pretty sight—not that he ever was...

* * *

 _The Emo Kids in the Corner_

* * *

General Liufang marched with her guard and interpreter to the platform installed in the center of the dance floor. She wanted to tear apart the stereos emitting the throbbing dance music, but what was a migraine compared to ultimate victory? She couldn't spare the soldiers right now.

Her entourage slowed to a stop in front of the platform with the metal pole. Admiral Neighlson—still only clothed in his sparkling black trunks—casually reclined on the edge, one leg hanging over the side. The group of friends he had made that night were crowded around him, but when they spotted Liufang they scrambled behind Neighlson for protection.

"The devil has come to take my soul, eh?" Neighlson raised his martini glass, toasting her. "Well, c'est la vie."

"I have no time to fence words with a Cornerian playboy," Liufang spat, scaring her interpreter as he worked. "Order your troops to surrender, and there needn't be anymore bloodshed."

The zebra raised his hands in surrender. "Aight, aight! I'm not lifting a finger to stop you. This party boat was never intended for war, and I don't mean to kill the fun by letting politics get in the way. I'll have my men submit—providing, of course, we're allowed to continue celebrating?"

Liufang looked upon the dancing crowd in disgust. "I don't see why not. After all, it is your last day."

Neighlson smiled, making his gratitude known. "Splendid!" One of the Katinese soldiers handed him a microphone, and he cleared his throat with a whinny before speaking into it. "Attention po-po, his is your Admiral Party Horse speaking. In order to prolong the festivities I am giving the order to surrender. The cool cats have graciously offered to relieve you of your posts, so you're all good to join the fun. Hand over your weapons and keep those safeties on!"

"Smart move, Admiral," Liufang told him when he finished. "Now you and the rest of these useless Cornerians will live on. Count yourself fortunate; you will witness the establishment of the new empire and the liberation of Corneria's colonies."

"Fortunate?" Neighlson laughed. "That hoity-toity empire Andross keeps hyping doesn't sound like my thing. The geezer's all about maths and sciences and experimenting on people and shit. I was too busy doing more important things, like joining and getting kicked out of as many frats as possible. I still haven't paid off my loans... but totally worth. Now imagine you put Andross at the head of the Lylat System. It's like electing a biology prof as the house president. Too much mitosis and too little reproduction, if you know what I mean, heh heh. A dictatorship like that is strictly no fun allowed."

"I see the stories were true," Liufang said. "I'd seen the true reaches of Cornerian excess in the movies you brought to Katina. It was all so tantalizing, the luxury they depicted. But it was only a carrot dangled on a stick. The great Cornerian Dream, manufactured to make us accept colonization. We sacrificed our freedom for material goods so that we lived in squalor while you continued living your pampered lives."

"Now hold on there, I _worked_ for this position. I hauled ass early on so I could loaft for the other half of my life. The people you see on this cruiseliner all put in the work, too."

"You don't know the meaning of hard work!" Liufang thrust her paw at a porthole, beyond which stormed the dark, clouded skies of Venom. "Do you think _any_ of these spoiled creatures could survive a day out there? Because that's where they're going. Andross promised to exile the whole population of Corneria, just like you did to us dissenters. And if he didn't, the best alternative I can see for you would be a prison camp carved out of sheer rock cliffs, the great acid sea frothing below. Let's see these Cornerians survive even an _hour_ in those conditions. These soldiers here—they've endured for five years. Yes, Katina was years behind Corneria technologically. Even as a child, I had none of the amenities of spoiled canine brats. I was working a job when you were soiling diapers. And then when you invaded and imposed your tariffs and trade laws I was the first to speak out and fight back. I lead my sisters and brothers in revolt, fighting for the sovereignty of my planet—and you were getting drunk on expensive drinks at a school your parents paid for. I struggled to live five years on Venom, eating rocks to fill my stomach, while you were spoon fed in a cozy military career. No Admiral, you will never know the meaning of hard work—not even when your muscles give out and your lungs no longer have the strength to breath in one of Andross' labor camps."

"I've been all around the Lylat, General, I've seen people in all kinds of different circumstances. And if there's one thing I've learned it's that Lylatians are always suffering. If it's not basic needs for food and water, it's struggling to make a buck, get a job, or pay off crippling loans. Even those seemingly fortunate elites you watched at your cinemas cut their lives short by suicide or drug overdoses. They don't have _real_ friends or lovers. They can't be honest about their feelings. They have societal obligations to fulfill, and financial stresses to drive them insane. And even if everything is going right in their lives, they have this awful sense that everything will go wrong, or should be going wrong, and they get paranoid and can't enjoy anything. It's why I get blackout drunk. It's why I nearly overdose on mescaline every time I take it. It's why I'm disgusted when I see myself in the mirror after I throw it all up.

"Lylatians _need_ things to struggle against—concrete things, not things they can't see like social expectations or financial woes or nebulous relationship issues. These people are atrophying, and their physiology doesn't like that. It screams at them that something's _wrong,_ but they have no idea how to fix it. Their bodies still yearn for that carnal state we were in thousands of years ago, when we were just dumb animals. That time we had to fight for survival. You think it would be any more difficult for these people to adjust to a life on Venom? Lylatians are at peace when they have something to struggle against. You have to fight to live. We have to fight not to kill ourselves. It's why I spend my whole life embracing hedonism now. No one can truly be happy until they conquer that guilt. And it's my job to spread that philosophy and self-help to as many Lylatians as I can."

Neighlson sighed deeply. After finishing his martini he let his arm hang limp, and the glass fell to the floor where it broke with a small tinkle. He looked around at the General and at his own entourage of passengers.

After waiting for the interpreter to catch up (he felt bad for the man), he continued. "Sorry I had to get so real with you all. But it's why I'm down here and not—" he pointed at the command bridge, "—up there. I... I think my high's leaving me." He began looking between his friends for another dose.

Liufang was deathly quiet. "Then why do you have to exile people?"

Neighlson shrugged. "Some people are just party-poopers. Killjoys. They spoil the experience for everyone else because they're not satisfied. Can't get along."

"Why do you have to forcefully spread your philosophy and ways of life to everyone else?" the caracal pressed on.

As more and more of his friends came up empty, the zebra looked increasingly desperate. "Look, I don't agree with everything we Cornerians do. But ultimately they're the ones who can eliminate poverty and crime and disease and food scarcity. Once we get to that point, we have to kill our evolutionary desire to participate in conflict. We have to party, and we have to believe it's _OK_ to party. Corneria has come to benefit all of the other planets, your own included. It's not my place to say what they can and can't do. I can't stop them. I only follow orders."

"And if you were to pass sentence on me?" Liufang asked. The animosity was gone from her voice, but the resoluteness remained. "Knowing that I lead the resistance against Corneria's well-intentioned takeovers? Am I one of those party-poopers?"

Admiral Neighlson studied the general. Her threadbare clothes, flea-bitten fur, and defiant stature. In the end, his prolonged silence told Liufang he wasn't at peace with his own answer.

The crowd parted, and through the gap marched a contingent of Katinese soldiers. Two of them were carrying an unconscious rabbit between them, his legs dragging against the dance floor.

The sergeant at their head saluted Liufang. "We captured him trying to escape the dance hall."

Liufang silenced her interpreter to exclude Admiral Neighlson. "Good work sergeant. Was he carrying the dimensional transporter?"

"Unfortunately not ma'am. We think his partner has it. He may be working his way to the hangar. We're in pursuit, but the security force is resisting. We gunned down five of them before we caught him."

"The Cornerians have done what they do best," Liufang said, glancing at Neighlson out of the corner of her eye. "They've rolled over and surrendered. Secure the arms of any more personnel you come across, and force them to join the search. We're on Venom. We have him trapped in a fancy sardine can. His partner has nowhere to go so long as we block off the hangar. Keep up the search. I will interrogate this hare myself."

"Yes ma'am." The Katinese sergeant had his men hand Jasper over to Liufang's personal guard. He then about-faced and marched off with his platoon.

Liufang noted that the rabbit was coming to. "This is not a suitable environment for an interrogation. Bring him with me to a private room."

Without another word to the Admiral, Liufang left with her retinue, Jasper in tow. Once they were out of earshot, Neighlson's friends crowded around him and tried to comfort him. But the zebra was staring back up at the ceiling—up through a viewing window to the command bridge. A newfound resoluteness began to form on his muzzle.


	3. Chapter 3

_The Refreshments in Ill Taste_

* * *

"Everyone out!" the Cornerian interpreter squeaked. The passengers in the private room looked up from their plates of delicacies and fine cuisine. At first they looked confused; they had legitimately purchased their tickets and booked the room. But when they saw General Liufang's imposing figure—saber pressed into the translator's back—they understood completely.

Clutching glasses and scraps of food the passengers exited the room. They took great care while squeezing past Liufang, pressing themselves into the bulkhead as they passed. The Katinese general posted her two guards outside, leaving just herself, the translator, and Jasper to enter the room. The two Venomian officers tried to follow, but Liufang's guards kept them out. Sneering and whispering among themselves, they waited outside.

Jasper gratefully plopped down on one of the two couches, sinking into the plush cushions. The interpreter cringed even before Liufang struck Jasper with the flat of her blade.

Jasper 'yiped!' and shot to his feet. He expected Liufang to flauntingly sit in his place, but the caracal paced around the room instead. She stopped by the viewing window, which looked out onto the main dance floor. The lights flashed in a hypnotizing manner, and Liufang's scowl worsened the longer she stared at the people below. At her behest the Cornerian turned up the opacity on the window, blocking most of the gaudy lights.

Liufang turned back to face Jasper. "Where is your friend hiding?" she demanded.

Jasper let out a sigh of relief. So they didn't know about Loretta yet. Having an accomplice the enemy was unaware of was always a plus. On the downside her question meant the Venomians had searched him and come up empty. They knew Vecchio must have the device. Jasper's only use to them alive was his knowledge of Vecchio's location. If he gave it away they'd surely catch the slow geezer, and if he kept it secret, well...

Jasper's eyes lowered onto Liufang's saber, the silver blade now just protruding from its sheath. He gulped. It was a dangerous balancing act he had to play.

"Well, you see, we're not really 'friends'," Jasper admitted. "He's just some old fool who grabbed onto my leg and won't let go. Makes him feel young again, following me around. I bet ya fifty creds he's double-crossed me and made off with the transporter himself. He's done this before, you see."

It was a lie. Although Jasper would abandon Vecchio in an instant, the old bird was loyal to him.

Liufang became agitated with Jasper's denial. She stormed over in his direction, but bumped her waist against a serving tray stand on the way. She grabbed both the edges to steady it, then noticed the food on top the tray. She stared at it curiously. Jasper did a double-take as well. Did his eyes deceive him, or were they serving their guests actual garbage?

It didn't make sense to either of them at first, but Jasper figured out the gimmick before Liufang could. It was Venomian-styled food, prepared to look indiscernible from wasteland scraps. In one bowl bubbled a dark green-colored liquid, the top of which was on fire. Jasper had almost met a painful end with the real-deal not too long ago; it was made to look like the acid sea. In reality it was... some alcoholic beverage? The black caviar looked like it was oozing out of tar pits, eel sushi practically crawled out of the faux-acid drink, and the exteriors of all the meats were burned charcoal-black. For dessert there was an array of dark chocolate and rock-candy sculpted to look like... well, rocks.

Apparently Liufang's stomach recognized the "delicacies" before her eyes did. Her stomach let out a low gurgle, and the feline placed a hand over her belly.

"What... is... this?"

Her halting Cornerian surprised both Jasper and the translator. The canine was so mixed up he translated her question _back into_ Katinese.

Jasper stumbled through his identification of the food. "Uh, the black bubble things are caviar. You know, fish eggs? The acid-looking grog is..." Hands still cuffed, Jasper picked up a red plastic cup and sipped it. "Visirin? Awfully diluted visirin, though. And the sushi flopping out of the punch bowl looks like eel."

"No no, it's clearly kani," the Cornerian interpreter explained. He hunched over the table with Jasper, picking up a piece with his similarly-cuffed hands. "The coloring matches eel, but the texture is kani."

Jasper nodded. "Ah. I doubt any creature could survive in those oceans, anyway. But when you choose a Venom theme for your cruise, you don't have a lot of options." He moved on to a slab of burned meat—the interior of which was more rare, and infinitely more appetizing. "Where's this meat supposed to be from?"

"Us."

Jasper and the Cornerian cringed at the same time. They looked back at Liufang, who seemed to be staring through the food, lost in memories.

"When we go to Venom, no food. To live... eat us that die. We eat the weak."

The two men kept their mouths clenched shut, afraid to say another word.

"Is that... people?"

They shook their heads vehemently.

Giving into her hunger Liufang grabbed one of the meat slabs with her bare paws and ate it. After swallowing she licked her lips and stared at the rest of the food.

"Meioshi..."

"It's delicious," the interpreter explained.

Liufang continued sampling the food. She did so timidly at first, expecting each time to crunch down on a rock or charred Lylatian flesh. Drinking the acid-styled visirin scared her the most, but after dipping her finger in she realized it was safe. She scooped up a cup of the burning liquid and poured some down her throat. Though it was a hardy dosage she didn't even flinch. She was used to much worse. She gasped after swallowing it down, a pleased sigh escaping her lips.

She drank another cup. Then another. And another. She burned through the shots faster and faster, unable to get enough. On the fifth cup she froze, the plastic rim poised against her lips. She lowered the cup, revealing a mixture of fear, pleasure, and hate battling for supremacy on her face. The cup began to tremble in her paw. She looked at the savory food, yearning for more, but constantly holding herself back. Her paw tightened around the cup, crushing the plastic with loud snaps.

The cup hit the floor, spilling the rest of the visirin across the carpet.

"Leave us."

Jasper and the Cornerian looked at each other. The interpreter took advantage of the uncertainty in the air and high-tailed it from the room. Jasper cursed himself for not leaving before the Cornerian, but it was a false exit. Liufang would have called him back.

The eyes of the Katinese general softened. She sat down on the couch, covering her face with her hands to escape the shame.

Jasper didn't know what to do. Nothing that had happened in the past four hours made any sense. In fact, nothing usually made sense anyway, and out of all the friends, fellow bandits, and officers he'd ever met, _he_ was the most adapt at rolling with things. But this...

This made the least sense of all.

How did he wind up here? Handcuffed, trapped in a room under heavy guard near the opposite side of the ship from where he needed to be. An unpredictable Katinese lady was constantly waving a sword in his direction, currently suffering an emotional breakdown. And the problem with the food was... it appeared to be _too_ good?

"I..." Liufang trailed off, softly, "I never eat food like this... meioshi. Not on Katina. Five years I was exile. I eat rocks. I eat ash. I eat the dead. Then I meet Andross, who has food. It was not very better, but was food. My people starve on Katina. My people starve in exile. If Katinese starve on Katina, and Katinese starve on Venom, how can I eat now?"

Jasper was slowly formulating a plan. He positioned himself across the serving table from Liufang. Taking up a piece of kani, he tossed it into his mouth. After all, he thought better when he ate, and he hadn't eaten since that nutri-bar he snagged before beginning the mission.

"What if 'your people' could have all of this?" he posited. "All the tastiest, most expensive delicacies you could imagine. Soon you'll _all_ be eating imitation wasteland food, laughing as if your time on Venom never even happened. You can have all of that, if..."

Liufang looked up from her hands. "If?"

"If you betray Andross. If he were to take over we'd all be stuck eating rocks and... charred Lylatian flesh. He'd turn the whole Lylat into a living hell, remaking it in Venom's image. And he's using your people to do it. Now I'm not in the business of taking sides. I'm just one little hare. But when the bigger blokes get into a fist fight, I take advantage of the situation. I throw my own punches—some left, some right. Always weaving in between them, playing one against the other. I work best in the chaos. It's the perfect opportunity for the little guy to come out on top. That's who you Katinese are—the little guy."

"I do not understand," Liufang murmured, but the gears still whirred in her head.

"Help Andross until the System is split fifty-fifty, evenly between both sides. Then rebel against him, and free Katina both from the Cornerians and from the mad scientist who's using you. Your people shouldn't bow to no one—even if he helped you survive on Venom. You think he was doing it out of the kindness of his heart? Naw!"

"Rebel... against Andross?"

"Wait for the war to play out. Never take sides except to keep the pendulum of victory in the middle. _That_ is how you free Katina, and _that_ is how you get caviar served to you in bed every day."

"What about dimensional transporter?"

"Take it for yourself. Use it to escape Andross. The rabbit's greatest defense is his speed, especially against larger predators. Let them eat each other."

Liufang studied him, timid hope gleaming in her eyes.

"Where is transporter?"

* * *

 _The Catfight Between Drunken Combatants_

* * *

A gust of wind blasted Loretta and Vecchio off their feet. The collie landed on all fours, cringing from the pain. From the sharp, wheezing cry on her right, Vecchio fared much worse.

Adhering to Jasper's plan, the two of them secretly teleported onto the top of the _Pleiades,_ where they now faced the buffeting wind and Venom's foul fumes. Though they accidentally teleported 15 feet too high Vecchio was able to break Loretta's fall—with himself. He must have broken or sprained something, as his left leg hurt each time he took a step. Weak bones, he said. Loretta lent her shoulder for support, but the two could only manage a snail's pace across the smooth metal hull of the craft.

Sprawled on the ground, Vecchio looked to Loretta to help him up. The pair struggled to their feet together, and resumed their treacherous journey across the top of the _Pleiades._ Looking up the rejected scientist saw the three rearward prominences towering above them, framed against the boiling sky and flashes of lightning. Once they reached the stern of the ship they would have to find another ladder leading down to a maintenance hatch. But in Vecchio's current condition Loretta wasn't sure he could make the climb down. If worse came to worst Loretta would go down alone to meet Jasper, and they could swipe a ship and pick Vecchio off the hull later. But Loretta worried about leaving him alone to be knocked about in the wind.

Loretta sighed. Of course Jasper had to _make it_ to the hangar first, which seemed doubtful. If only she knew how to hot-wire a ship herself... but mechanical engineering was never her strong suit. For once she cursed herself for being such a well-behaved student in college; never falling in with the mischievous engineers who orchestrated overflowing toilets, loosened bolts on professors' auditorium hover-seats, or dissembled and reassembled the dean's car in his office. The worst thing she had ever done was throwing an empty soda can at a protest against the appointment of General Pepper. But even against the greatest odds, Vecchio told her, Jasper had a habit of coming through. All they had to do was keep faith.

The report of a blaster cracked over the ship. A green energy bolt flashed above Loretta's head, knocking her witch hat clear off. Vecchio and Loretta turned around to look for the source, mouths agape in fear.

General Liufang was in the process of pulling herself over the side of the ship, closely followed by her translator and Katinese guard. With one arm she grasped the next rung, and with the other she pointed her smoking commando pistol in their direction.

"Teis _hhh_ ing!" she screeched over the howling wind. Did the collie hear her right, or was she slurring her words?

Loretta jerked Vecchio forward, attempting to flee rather than surrender, but their progress remained impeded by the avian's wounded leg. To make things worse a second blaster bolt struck the ship's surface just behind their heels.

Vecchio lost his footing on the smooth surface. He fell onto the hull again, dragging Loretta down with him. The two looked back, shocked to see Liufang had ascended the rest of the ladder and was hurrying towards them.

She shouted a longer phrase in Katinese, and the canine behind her translated, "Hand over the transporter, or I'll kill you both!"

Loretta looked at Vecchio, sorry for what she was about to do. Vecchio stared back into her eyes, recognizing her looming betrayal and despairing.

The collie ripped the transporter from Vecchio's other hand. She distanced herself from him, placing herself several yards away. Liufang slowed her own pace to a march, pistol raised and pointed at Loretta's stomach.

"Yas _hhh_ uan ba!"

"D-drop it!"

Loretta held the transporter between herself and the pistol, making Liufang's shot a difficult one. She pressed a few keys on the device, hoping Liufang wouldn't notice—but the feline apparently caught on.

"I'll shoot!" The interpreter wasn't intoxicated at all.

The instant Liufang fired her gun Loretta mashed her own finger down on the activation button. The green bolt sailed through the space she had been occupying, instead impacting into the neck of the center command bridge.

Irked, Liufang swung her gaze left and right, but couldn't locate the collie. She did notice a relieved smile on the old skua's face, and followed his eyes behind her. Whirling around and almost losing her balance she found Loretta steadying herself on the other side of the ship.

Liufang snarled and took off across the hull, prompting Loretta to do the same. She fired two shots in quick succession, but the collie slipped and landed on her rump, sliding a few feet across the ship while the bolts flew over her head. If the feline was less inebriated, those rounds would have struck her.

Recognizing an opening, Liufang sprinted forward and dove for Loretta, but the canine had already changed the input on the transporter. One instant the caracal's arms were closing around her, and the next she was gone.

Spinning over into a sitting position, Liufang growled, "Stop it!"

By now the rest of the Katinese soldiers were also on top of the _Pleiades,_ and Loretta had unwittingly sent herself into their midst. Before she could teleport away they mobbed her, grabbing onto her arms and torso and holding her in place.

Liufang struggled to her feet, then marched over to Loretta. She drunkenly swatted her troops' hands away and tried to grab the transporter herself. But Loretta took the transporter and tossed it into the neck-opening of her onesie—or rather the drop-seat, as she was still wearing it upside down. Loretta retracted into her pajamas like a turtle retreating into its shell. Liufang shoved her arm through the opening and began fishing around for the transporter. She screamed when Loretta bit her, hastily withdrawing her hand. Angered all the more, she forced her own head and shoulders into the suit before diving in all the way. Her men held the onesie in place while the two women struggled for control over the transporter, twisting, clawing, and scratching all the while.

Eventually Loretta managed to find the activation button again, and she found herself several yards away from the mob, leaving her onesie behind. She clutched the transporter to her chest, shivering as gusts of Venomian wind blew through her exposed fur.

Liufang and the rest of the Katinese soldiers hadn't noticed her disappearance. They still held the suit in place as Liufang writhed and fought a non-existing enemy within it. Swearing incessantly in Katinese, her head broke through the neck-hole and her arms and legs found their appropriate places in the suit. She was now wearing Loretta's onesie, confused at what had just transpired and bewildered by the upside-down horizon greeting her.

* * *

 _The Gossip that Poisons the Well_

* * *

Two Venomian guards escorted Jasper into the command bridge elevator. He noticed another pair of guards bringing a zebra with them—one he vaguely remembered from the dance floor, but he was recovering from a mild concussion then. The equine's black sparkling trunks blinded Jasper when he first entered the compartment.

Their ascent was unbearably awkward. They all had to squeeze to fit in, and Jasper found himself standing uncomfortably close to the near-naked zebra, flanked on either side by pairs of Venomians with itchy trigger fingers. Rather than stereotypical elevator music, the intercom broadcast the incessant weepings of a crewmember or a DJ who had forgotten to turn his mic off. As soon as the doors closed and shut out the upbeat party rhythms, the soft sobbing was the only noise they were left with.

After the short but painfully drawn-out ride, the doors opened and they stepped out onto the command bridge. Venomian soldiers milled about the edges and walkways, patrolling with their rifles. Snowflake stood dejectedly to the side of the captain's chair. Pulcifer cowered in the corner with some other members of his staff. It was a dreary, hopeless sight, and Neighlson's wild trunks did nothing to brighten the mood.

Jasper followed Snowflake's gaze out the window, where he noticed the confrontation unfolding between a group of tiny dots; the distance between the bridge and the forward hull was too great to properly see them, but he knew Liufang must have found Vecchio and Loretta. He had to put his plan into action if he wanted to save them and the device before the general got to it.

Admiral Neighlson strolled over to his captain, greeting him with a salute.

"Atten _tion!_ " he called.

At any other time the warthog would have returned his officer's salute. But his dour expression didn't change.

"You're not even in uniform, Admiral."

Neighlson fished around in his trunks for a few seconds, then removed his insignia and rank bars, which he pinned to the outside of his briefs. For extra measure he whipped out his tie and slung it around his neck.

"Satisfied, soldier?"

Snowflake rolled his eyes.

Neighlson glanced to their left and right, verifying that no Venomians were in earshot. Leaning in he whispered, "I've also got two subcompact blasters and a can of pepper spray concealed down here. Now, if we work together we can—"

Snowflake shook his hung head. "It's no use, Admiral. We're at the mercy of the Venomians now. Going down in a fight won't accomplish anything, except preserving our dignity, which I now see is meaningless."

At that moment Jasper popped up between them. "Hallo gents! What're we whispering about?"

"We're planning a way to take back the ship," Neighlson explained. "I've got these two blasters—"

"Whoa-whoa-whoa! Keep your shorts on! Those measly weapons won't hold a flashlight to what they've got." He tapped his forehead. "You've got to outsmart them."

Snowflake looked up. Recognizing Jasper from the security cam footage he growled. "And why should we trust you? You're one of the scoundrels who ran off with the transporter!"

"Yeah, and I'm still going to get away with it!" Jasper declared. "Look, all you need to worry about are your passengers. I've noticed there are two groups of Androssians here; your average monkeys and lizards, and then your feline species. If we can turn them against each other you have a shot at retaking the bridge, and I'll be able to snatch that transporter."

"How about we make them challenge each other in a dance-off?!" Neighlson said, growing excited. "I've seen dance-offs turn really ugly sometimes."

"I appreciate your good intentions, zebra-man," Jasper told him, "But that's a shit idea. Don't worry, I just laid the groundwork for the deception. I had an intimate convo with General cat-lady, even though she could hardly speak Cornerian... Anyway, if you tell one of those monkey officers to review the cam footage from that room, he'll find we traded some pretty incriminating words."

 _"Any_ action taken in congruence with you is incriminating," Snowflake huffed. "...But, what were they?"

"I've convinced her to betray Andross. One look at that conversation and our Venomian buddies will be up in arms against the Katinese. Then, in the chaos, _you_ seize control! Now go tell that officer to check the cam and audio recording."

Neighlson took a step in the primate's direction, but froze in a comical pose. "Wait, what room was it in?"

"Uh... D3? One of the private ones."

The zebra saluted with two fingers. "Thanks dude!"

Jasper and Snowflake looked on while Neighlson sauntered over to the officer. After convincing him he really _was_ the admiral the two moved over to a computer in the lowered deck, where a Cornerian was still operating it. The Venomian ordered him to pull up the visual and audio recordings, which they skimmed over the past ten minutes of.

At first the officer looked shocked, but then extremely pleased. Looking up from the recording he raised a hand.

"Men, arrest those Katinese; they're traitors!"

The Venomians on the bridge turned their weapons on the Katinese, who raised their own in confusion. At the same time the Cornerian prisoners exchanged glances, looking hopefully in Captain Snowflake's direction. Sighing, he subtly nodded back.

"What are you doing?" the commanding Katinese officer shouted. "Is this mutiny?!"

"General Liufang has betrayed the great Emperor Andross. You and your men will put down your weapons and immediately re-swear your allegiance."

"There must be some mistake! Liufang is most loyal to the Emperor's cause!"

Before he responded the Venomian radioed a message to their warship, warning of Liufang's treachery and demanding they subdue the rest of the Katinese.

"Andross warned of your coming trickery!" the monkey spat. "That's why he assigned us to watch you Katinese—he never trusted you. Now drop your weapons, or assist in Liufang's arrest!"

"Never!" the Katinese officer said, defying him. "You Venomians have always distrusted us, always looking for an excuse to pounce! We will never betray the General, or our people!"

Growing tired of their shouting match, the simian screamed, "FIRE!"

The Venomians opened fired on their former allies, driving the Katinese behind cover. They shot back over computer monitors and desks, as live laser rounds sped back and forth through the bridge.

"Now men!" Snowflake bellowed. He charged the nearest Venomian, ramming him with his tusks and fighting to tear his rifle away. Neighlson planted two rounds in the Venomian officer's back, then hunched over and galloped away to safety. During his retreat a lizard tried gunning him down, but his laser bolt merely glanced off Neighlson's reflective trunks, killing another officer. The rest of the Cornerians followed suit, plunging the bridge into a chaotic three-way brawl.

But before many more lives could be taken, two successive booms rumbled through the bridge. Just as suddenly as it had begun, the fighting in the bridge stopped. Heads poked out from behind cover to see what was up.

* * *

 _The Bailout Made in Haste_

* * *

The blasts were a dozen times louder on the exterior of the ship. Liufang twisted herself around to face their source, still hanging upside down in the onesie. She was just in time to witness two explosions burst from the side of the Venomian warship. Someone had fired on them using the _Pleiades'_ defensive cannons.

"Nanshi...?"

Everyone on the ship's hull held their breaths—this time in suspense, and not to block out Venom's noxious fumes.

Confirming their deepest fears, the Venomian warship's shields activated. It fired back a volley of its own cannons, the rounds of which were infinitely more destructive. The damage to the unshielded passenger vessel was monumental. The entire cruiseliner shook with each landed blast, sending everyone off-balance. Smoke poured from gaping holes in the ship's side. If the passengers weren't already panicking, they were now. Screams rose in tandem with the black smoke from the _Pleiades'_ wounds.

Liufang steadied herself on all fours. Why were they firing back? Unless they knew about her planned betrayal and thought _she_ had ordered the attack. But no one except the rabbit and herself had heard the conversation. Which meant...

Her eyes narrowed to steely slits and she clenched her fist. It was _him!_

Another explosion boomed over the ship—but this one originated from inside the command bridge. Shards of safety glass rained down around them, followed by a lone figure leaping from the hole. All eyes turned skyward before Jasper landed among them, rolling and bouncing several times to absorb what he could of the fall.

A horrific metal-rending screech pierced the cacophony of all other noises. The _Pleiades_ slowly bent in two pieces, the front half angling down and peeling the hull open. Those Katinese closest to the side slipped off and fell screaming to the acid ocean below. Loretta's own scream was lost in the wind while Vecchio tried to stabilize himself on the growing incline. They both looked to see Jasper slipping towards them, but he caught himself on a large welding bolt.

"Jasper my boy! Over here!"

"Jasper! Help!"

He squinted and looked back and forth between them. Cupping a hand over his mouth he called, "I've got a plan! But first which one of you has the transporter?"

Vecchio's hopeful smile vanished, and he rolled his eyes.

Loretta held the device as high as she could, waving it about. "Here! I've still got it!"

His choice easily made, Jasper let go and slid down the hull to Loretta. The front half of the ship tore completely free, plummeting hundreds of feet below where it sent up a mountainous splash of acid. The rear half managed to stay afloat, but the change in weight from the front breaking away caused a whiplash that sent everyone on board flying.

Loretta clung tightly to Jasper as they sailed through the air, out over the acid sea. Jasper furiously turned the dials controlling the Z and Y coordinates, a task made harder by the fact they were both falling to their deaths. Just as the acid waves rose to meet them he pressed the activation button...

* * *

 _The After Party in the Sky_

* * *

After the first half of the ship fell into the sea, it underwent a prolonged corrosion process. The acid ate away at the metal, insulation, and other materials, emitting a thick cloud of steam that covered the surface of the ocean.

Down near the burning waves, the smog parted, revealing a rocky protrusion jutting out of sea. Atop it sat the singed figures of Jasper and Loretta.

The instant before they hit the hungry waves, Jasper teleported them a hundred feet back into the air, and a hundred feet forward. This started their fall all over again, but still moved them horizontally. Repeating the teleportation process each time they fell, they eventually came upon the rock formation they now sat upon.

The problem was Jasper couldn't enter the exact distance to the rocks, nor could he guarantee they wouldn't break every bone in their body if they landed on it. His only other option was to drop them in the acid nearby.

The acid safely broke their fall, but burned off most of their fur in the process. Jasper's safari hat was reduced to a tangle of cloth scraps—which he still proudly wore on his head. He told himself it gave him better airflow to think. After ditching her pajama suit Loretta was left with just her underwear, which was mostly burned through except for the firmer linings. She sat with her knees pressed up to her chest, facing away from Jasper, after having unsuccessfully chased him around the island for his shirt.

Except for the simmering waves that lapped against the rocks, the island was silent.

Then a large, curved piece of metal emerged from the smog, floating their way. Gripping each edge like the frightened cat she was, General Liufang came into view. The scrap of the _Pleiades_ lazily sailed over to the island, where it bumped up against its side. Realizing she had nothing to lose, Liufang let go of the wreckage and scurried aboard the island. She huddled in a ball at the center, as far away from the acid sea as possible.

She was now wearing Loretta's onesie, which she had trapped her in earlier on the _Pleiades._ The suit had done her some good; while it was now full of burn holes, Liufang wasn't, though much of the fur on her head had been fried off.

Still recovering her breath, Liufang looked at Jasper and then Loretta, expectantly.

One after the other, they shook their heads. They no longer had the transporter. After their plunge into the acid they had to focus on swimming to safety, and in the process Jasper let go of it. If it hadn't already disintegrated in the dangerous soup, it now lay at the bottom of it.

All of the hope in her expression vanished. She lay her cheek against the harsh stone and cried softly, thinking of all the comforts she had tasted on the ship—the same comforts that Jasper had shown her—now completely gone. Any possibility of escaping her exile to Venom disappeared forever. Never had the light of salvation been so cruelly offered and then taken away from her.

She felt something nudge her. Turning over Liufang saw the canine standing over her, naked except for a few scraps.

Loretta gestured to the pajama suit with her foot. "Can I have that back now?"

Sobering back to reality, Liufang pulled off the onesie, careful not to tear it apart with how badly damaged it already was.

Loretta gratefully accepted it. "Thanks!" As she began putting it on she continued, "You know, being marooned on a Venomian island is bad and all, but at least we can finally try out socialism under the right circumstances! I've _always_ wanted to do this!"

"You still ain't getting my shirt," Jasper growled, still facing out to sea.

"You sir will be the first to the gulag! Ooh, that means it'll be a female-only society, too!"

Drying her eyes and sniffing, Liufang said, "I do not want to stay."

While Loretta tried encouraging Liufang behind him, Jasper continued looking around. He took stock of the wreckage washing up around the island, the items they possessed on-person, and the two floating vessels that remained in the sky: the Venomian warship, and the rear-half of the _Pleiades._

"Listen up ladies!" he exclaimed.

Loretta quit talking, and they both turned in his direction.

Jasper bounced to his feet, standing proudly at the edge of the rock with his hands clenched at his hips. The urge both women felt to push him over the side was nigh irrisistible.

"I've got a plan..."

 **The End**


End file.
